If My Heaven Ever Did Speak
by Speary
Summary: This is a narrative from Cas' perspective post 10x18. He contemplates Metatron's words and Dean. Angst and Destiel


Cas nuzzled into his neck, running his lips along Dean's pulse, feeling the life pumping through him. He hummed into the space, happy and content to never move away. Dean's room in the bunker was dark, but the small desktop light was turned on, and it enabled him to see Dean's face when he pulled back to gaze. He stayed like that for a time, Dean just there in front of him staring back. Dean's lips curled up into a smile, small and sweet. Cas kissed him again, smiling into the move.

Metatron had asked him what his mission was and essentially who he even was. He had not answered him. He didn't deserve an answer. Cas had felt that if anyone deserved that answer it was Dean, and even Dean was getting nothing like that from him yet. He got lies and love, but nothing that at that time had been acknowledged with words or direct action. He kissed him in dreams, if angels did that sort of thing. When his borrowed grace had begun fading, he did dream a little. Mostly he saw colors and sometimes he saw more. Now it was different, because it was not dreaming that he did when he kissed Dean.

* * *

They sat side by side in the Impala. Cas' hand clasped in Dean's as the rolling countryside blurred by in greens and browns. The road was long and ended in those wavy lines that create a type of infinity. They drove toward the mirage of it as the music surrounded them in the humble space. It was one of Dean's classic rock tapes churning out the tunes. Cas had liked the way that it had discernible lyrics. As they drove on, he found himself singing some of the familiar songs. Dean turned to him and smiled that same happy, sappy little grin. Dean turned back to the road ahead bopping his head in time to the music.

Metatron had asked if he missed feelings and the mundane. Cas didn't miss those things because he hadn't shed those things when he had taken in the grace of another. In fact, he had thought that he had appreciated those feelings all the more. He struggled with the feelings, how to act, how to convey the depth of them. He wanted to tell Dean everything, how he longed to stay, how he longed to always, always stay. Metatron could never understand this. He could never understand the feelings and their importance, because he had never felt anything for anyone but himself. He knew nothing of love beyond books and stories. None of it filled his thoughts. He knew nothing of sacrifice or longing, except where he would gain power, and that is just not the same. Cas longed and loved and sacrificed, and he would do it all again in the exact same way if it meant that Dean Winchester would be saved.

* * *

They sat outside the burger joint in Gualala. It was a small coastal town overlooking the vast expanse of sea and sand. The wooden tables on the beachside patio were well-worn with use. Cas plucked up a fry that would taste like molecules if things had been as they had once been. They were well-salted. Little grains of it stuck to his lips. Dean leaned in and kissed them away. The world felt empty save only for each other. They finished their burgers, that came to the table as if by magic. After wiping away the stray crumbs and gulping down the last of their drinks, they walked down to the water hand in hand. The beach was a little sheltered, and the waves were mild. Dean turned to him and curled his hands around his waist only to immediately dip them into the pockets of Cas' jeans. He wore jeans now that Dean had expressed a slight admiration for them. Cas moved his hands up to his chest, then his neck and hair. He held him and thought that he would never grow tired of this. An eternity of this would be plenty fine.

Metatron had asked why he would want to change Dean back. He called him a firecracker or somesuch. Cas remembered with satisfaction the crack of his face as he punched him. Hurting Metatron was most satisfying. He had killed Dean, and he had done so much harm. Punching him was the least he could do for the universe. True, Dean could have lived with the Mark. He could have locked himself away never to interact with demons or humans again. He could have kept temptation at bay, maybe, but how was that fair. To Castiel's way of thinking, no one in all the world deserved peace like Dean. He was a champion, a righteous man, and he deserved better. Cas could have answered Metatron with a novel's worth of reasons for why Dean deserved his humanity and freedom from the Mark. He deserved his vacation, and a life of simple joys. He did not answer Metatron though; he did not deserve that story.

* * *

Dean did not look pleased in this moment. His eyes were wide with shock. It had been what could arguably be termed their first kiss. Cas had hoped that it would have happened before now, but nothing could be done about that anymore. Dean had finally told him before about Cain's words. He had told him about the fear that he had concerning the murders that Cain said that he would commit. He had looked at Cas and told him that Cain had been right, that killing Cas would hurt something awful. He said that he would never get past it. That had been days before, and Cas had done what he could to comfort him, to tell him that it would be fine. It had been difficult though. Then there was the kiss, the kiss of salvation. He had pulled Dean to him in a moment of honesty. He had told him that he loved him. He had told him that there was nothing in the world more vital to him. He was not pleased with his words, as they did not convey to Dean the truth of his story. Words never could. He told him the cure for the Mark though, and Dean took steps away from him in the hopes of forestalling the act. Cas was stronger though, and with his own grace guiding him, he pressed the kiss into Dean, and his grace followed. Cas was happy, because he could feel the success of the act, his hand on Dean's arm over the Mark that faded away with the kiss.

Metaton had asked , though not directly, what was the maddest thing a man could do? Cas pulled his grace into him as he contemplated the answer to the riddle, 'let himself die.' He knew, even then, that getting his grace back was only a means to an end. It was always about one man. He would let himself die if it meant that Dean would live. In that act, he felt, he would truly have redeemed himself. He had thought at the time that he would give Dean his grace, and then the death would follow immediately on its heels. It did not. There had been a too brief stretch of weeks together where Dean at first cursed him for his stupidity. Angry and sometimes depressed he roamed the halls of the bunker, until finally he came to Cas and asked what he wanted to do with his last days. Cas had not answered directly, but they had found each other in that time. They took to the open road. They lived as though there was time and each other, and Cas knew, in those weeks, what it was to be happy.

* * *

Heaven could be kind sometimes. Cas did not think about that though as it would ruin the effect. Instead he focused again on the warm place in Dean's neck, then the hand in his while the Impala purred beneath them, then the salty kisses at the beach, and the face that he would contemplate for an eternity. He smiled. Dean smiled.

Metatron had asked what two things you needed to succeed in life, but his answer had been wrong. He had said ignorance and confidence. Cas felt that he had succeeded plenty. He had love and the knowledge that he had saved Dean. Before he passed he had asked him to live, to live well and long. Dean looked for all the world like he would not comply. Cas told him that life was too short already to go throwing away the gift of it. He told him that they would find each other eventually, that for all of the vastness of heaven, they would not be apart within in once Dean's time came. Cas hoped that it would be enough to convince Dean to live. He would have his brother and Charlie. There would always be that, and family had a way of making things much more possible. They would love him through this, and time would pass, and Cas would find him again after Dean had finally truly lived.

* * *

**Review, Fav. Rec.**

**AN: Hope you liked this angsty little one-shot. Thanks for reading. My other fic will get updated in the coming week. For the new readers, you can follow me at spearywritesstuff over on Tumblr.**


End file.
